The Unit: Home Run
by roomtable202
Summary: Story around the characters of Charles Grey and Bob Brown, their mutual trust stretched to the limit. Re-posted.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 1

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

* * *

Bob Brown awoke with a start in the middle of nothing, or so it seemed... engulfed in the utter darkness, not a sound. A flash of panic hit full blow his nervous system, like a living spring expanding through his body and mind: apart from that he couldn't even tell for sure if he could flex his fingers, his arms or even if his eyes were really open.

"Hey! Stay awake! Come on!"

And there was this full blast of light and the most unbearable pain; he had never felt anything like this before, it was like being in flames all over.

"Oh, no!!

"I've got you!! I've got you!!

"No!!"

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Bob! Bobbo!! Look at me! Look at me!"

"Oh, God!!" His eyes opened for a brief second and closed again as he tried to orientate himself, then opened them fully to lock on to Grey's and to his present reality.

"Listen, listen, listen!! I'm gonna check up on you now... Be calm!"

"No!! Don't touch me!! Please!! Don't!!"

"Take your hands off, Bob! Hands off!! HANDS OFF!!"

"My leg!! What's that sticking out?! Is it my bone?"

"No, no... It's some little branch stub that got through... Calm down... It's Ok."

"Shot me some morphine!!"

"I can't right now! It might kill you! Be calm. Be calm! It's not as worse as it seems! Just let me have a look! There we go...!"

"Oohhh!! God!!"

"Hold on... Hold on... Be still now!"

"Oh, no!!"

"You've been very lucky...! Hold on! Let's do this together!!"

"OooH!! Please stop!! STOP!!"

"I know! I know! Relax, relax! Listen to me... Calm down... Calm down... Let me see...!! Take it easy... Ok, Ok, Ok... Look at me... You must calm down... I need you to hang on... You hang on, you hear me? I need to fix this now or you would loose too much blood."

"Stop!! Stop!! STOP!! Get off from me!!""

"We are almost finished...!! Come on...! Don't fight me, man!!"

"Oh, please, cut it out!! Now!! PLEASE!!"

"It's almost over!! ... I know it hurts like hell... but it's almost over! Hold on now! You'll feel much better in a minute... Bob! Bob! Don't do this to me now... Talk to me,.. Stay with me now...! Bob!! Bob!! Come round, it's over... It's over, man... Shit!"

Grey pulled Bob from the arms until he had him to a half seated position and then swiveled swiftly behind him. After the shake down, the only thing he was focused on being stabilizing him in order to re-asses their current scenario. He sat behind his mate, legs knee bent at both sides of him, cradling Bob and trying to quiet down his shivering with his arms, keeping him warm and passing onto him as well a sense of reassurance.

"You can lean on me now. I've got you, I've got you... "

Bob responded quickly, slightly accommodating to his new position and lowering his chin against his chest as much as he dared; then took a firm grip of Grey's arms with his hands, trying to control his ragged breathing, encompassing it to Grey's.

"Just take it easy, now. Don't fight it. Take in the pain. Breathe, breathe... 4-3-2-1... Hold it. 1-2-3-4... Again... 4-3-2-1... Hold it. 1-2-3-4... (...) Think on Kim, Serena and Teddy... It was so much fun playing soccer with the kids on Serena's party... Hey, you even scored one... (...)"

Bob concentrated on his voice during the next few minutes and Grey could feel him steadying, relaxing. Bob seemed to be striving for total calm, clearly self-conscious about his overreaction now. Soon, the worst pain subsided enough and when he realized in his new found control he was still holding tight onto his team mate's arms he let go hastily, untangling himself from Grey's forceful embrace immediately after.

"We're not dating anymore? You flushing me down the toilette now? Hey, it's OK... Better there than here."

"Allow a father a little pride, huh? Someone might be googleearthing us just right now... "

"How are you feeling, man?"

"Like shit..."

"You OK if I've a look now?"

"Serve yourself..."

"Listen, I need you to sit tight just one more minute, if everything is ok, I'll give you that shot of morphine and put you to sleep all along the worst part of patching you up. You with me?"

- It's OK. Go on. I am fine now...

Rising from the ground, Grey passed an arm around Bob and let him back towards the rock at his back. Grey went on his knees to have a close look. With no warning he took one of the remaining torn sides of the ragged fabric over Brown's left leg and lifted if off.

"Easy!! That hurts!!" Bob showed back Grey's hands while he was trying to lift off what was left of his pants.

"We are a bit jumpy today, are we? Get your hands in your pockets and keep them there. Let me work." Grey replied calmly. Throwing his head back, Bob took a deep, steadying breath. "All right", he hissed in pain and he then hung silently for the most part of the manipulations and the probing.

"You're gonna need lots of knitting, bro... and some more. I'm not gonna lie to you, it looks pretty bad,... but, we'll see to that. Just hang on. It's mostly wounds all over from the branches of the trees you fell through, head on to the rocks. One broken rib... I don't see any signs of internal bleeding. Thanks... The worse seems to be concentrated in your leg. The important thing is none of these would kill you if we take care of them and...

".. and if we can get out of this hole". What's the last you saw from the Team?"

"I couldn't see any. I took after you".

"So, you don't even know if they followed or not? Hell! What were you thinking, man!"

"HALO jump. 30,000 feet, pitch dark night? Total radio blackout, no GPS. Dude, does an entangled grenade messing with your parachute when getting ready ring a bell? It was you who jumped ahead of sign not to blast the whole bird. I just followed suit when I saw you going head down like a stone and struggling. Don't know what the others did or had time to do."

"I-..."

"Hey,... No drama... We were extremely lucky to get rid of that when we did. A hundred meters down more and we will be decorating quite a few of those trees by now and we are not even close to Christmas. (...) Don't tell me you didn't have it secured..."

"I won't, then. Look, probably you feel like punishing me some more for that, but is there anything you can do to ease this knifing pain a bit? I'll really appreciate. It's driving me crazy."

"Gimme a minute, let me finish the last check up on your vitals and I'll make you more comfortable."

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	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 2

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

* * *

For a long, undefined, time Bob Brown floated on a sea of pain, sweetness and confusion in equal parts. He had no idea where he was and no idea how he'd gotten there. His last real memory was of Grey's cold hands fumbling around with the upper part of his pants and jabbing the promised shot in his behind. From then, the world grew gradually calmer and he got lost in a midst of hazy dreams populated with a strange mix up of memories of his own past mingled with the wildest of fantasies. His arms stunk and his legs were numb, his eyes blurry and grainy and, though slightly disorientated, he was experimenting the first taste of his new emerging reality.

He made a pained effort to listen but heard nothing except his own teeth chattering and the enormous sound of rushing water. He crawled up and lay back against the nearest tree, shivering. He noticed blood on the rock where he had rested his hand and discovered that his fingers were bleeding. There was no pain, for his hands were completely numb, but the wool of his gloves had worn away as well as the skin from his fingers. Bob Brown was not the squeamish kind but he had to sum up all of his will to dare and look at his legs, where he remembered suffering most of the damage. All he could see was that his legs were thickly shrouded in the black silky tissue of their standard parachutes. Then, the pain surged back as sharp and merciless as he dared to remember.

"Bet- Betty... Betty Blu-blue...? (...) Betty... Blue.."

He didn't know when, but soon was lost again in a whirlpool of daydreaming confusion. When he awoke again to reality, he was lying on his back, and his mind feeling as clear as ever was. He felt the biting cold of the wind against his face and he seemed to remember being in the woods, trying to get back to any potential extraction point but that vicious pain, almost familiar now, took him in full again, and crunched any other thought that was not to get rid of it at any cost.

_"Focus on a wee crack on the wall and do not listen to their voices. That would be fatal. Focus on a wee crack, on anything little, not moving, and let your mind drift"._ The voice of his old training sergeant instructing him on how to resist an interrogatory came resolute to his mind.

_"Focus on a wee leaf on that tree and don't think", _he told himself.

All the shades of green swirled over his head, in a semi haze, tiny sunrays trespassing through that massive greenery like gold needles aiming at his eyes. He tried several times to feign their relentless attack in an effort to distract his mind, until he got tired and he let go trying, the faint whirling sound of the wind against his ears, comforting him somehow. If it wasn't for he was hurting so much, to stay still forever like this wouldn't be so bad after all.

_"Focus! Focus! It's no time to be gone. No! Not now!"_

Where was Grey? Had he left him fly solo in his condition? Every group of people has someone they don't like or want to work with, even in a group as reduced as theirs. Brown always resented Grey not being completely at ease with him, but in the unit everyone had a solid sense of loyalty to each other that made no distinctions and he had always counted on Grey's total commitment. His eyelids drooped and they wanted to stay glued together.

It was difficult to tell whether it was the morphine or that unbearable pain what took him to such a point where he didn't know whether he was going to be able to survive or not on his own. In a while, he was fast disappearing again into his own world where the same thoughts rolled over and over in his mind. Pain, dad, Kim, pain, Serena and Teddy playing, pain, Grey, pain. His world was brought down to those distinct subjects and as he lay in his self imposed darkness, his eyes closed against the world, his unthinking mind took over on Grey again and brought up the first thing it grabbed onto.

_"There is, at least, this difference between you and me, Bob: I do not act here by a sense of revenge. It might even be because I've got a kick out of it, but no for personal reasons."_

_"You are onto me since Day One."_

_"I don't care much about you, dude; live and let live, I have no complaints... but I care about Hector and I care about Mack and Jonas, and the Unit. You came out of the nothing. Nobody I know in all my years in the army heard about you and you were supposed to have done two tours in Iraq and three careers. You, a highly trained sniper... the rock stars in every platoon."_

_"Why not to ask me, then?"_

_"And what's the point in asking "You CIA, Brown?" when you could lie so professionally just as any of us". At this point, Bob giggled softly and dismissed the argument by slightly inclining his head left while looking at Grey's furled eyebrows. _

Next time Bob Brown regained hold of himself, he was leaning half seated against a rock, although he didn't remember how or when he got into that position. He was thirsty and he felt the urge to stand up and get close to the faint sound of rushing water near him. He collected all his strength and pushed himself upright. He just had the time to take half a step forward before his injured left leg gave way beneath him, and he fell to the ground. Pushing himself upwards again, he tried to crawl over to prove himself he could make it by his own. His grip slithered away and his body toppled sideways, to crumple on the ground again. Without thinking, he raised his hands to rub his leg and gasped in pain at the realization that he had broken now two of his fingers.

Out of his self assumed shame for his failure, he dismissed the searing pain through his body and tried to get to his knees. He managed only to lift the upper part of his body a little way from the ground and he inched forward towards his former position against the rock.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 3

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

* * *

Grey had intervened on many battlefield rescues under heavy fire as a medic. He just learnt quickly not to listen to the heart breaking desperate cries, some of pure agony, others asking for help or just pleading him to stop whatever he was doing. He found a way to put emotion aside and keep doing what he was doing for the sake of the life that was in his hands. He found a way too to disregard the overwhelming responsibility of triage, deciding who was more prone to make it or who, in some extreme cases, would be receiving a high morphine dose to help him to pass away with no unnecessary suffering. He could do it all, he did it all, until he couldn't do it no more and the haunting of what he did was too much to even think about it after so many years.

He had lost count the very first week of service of the many death and injured men he had tended to, helped to pass away or took to safe ground, but someone keeping the record for the platoon spread the word around that in just 9 months he knew for sure they had been more than 300. The counting was well meant to praise him for the lives he helped to spare, but pride was way too far on how he felt about it himself, all his self deprecating and misery for the wrongs he had done, forced to split second decisions in life and death situations, hidden behind the chuckling fool image he projected of himself and which shielded most efficiently his inner darkest spots to the rest of the world.

Since he was in the Unit that has been one of many long closed doors that kept at bay all the terrible images of those two years that got in and will never get out of his mind, because he knew that was what might most effectively and quickly sweep away his sanity any given day.

All men in the different teams of the Unit were aware and knew all those things they never said, never even thought about. All those things they never even dared to admit to themselves, much less to each other. There shouldn't be any room in their lives for those things, so why talk about it, think about it... certainly never risk to let them stalk any of their team mates.

So, when a few hours ago, Grey was faced with the limp body of Brown lying in front of him, he was confronted too with a tough decision to make. Bob wasn't so seriously injured as to fear for his life, but for his leg getting good as new required a trauma experienced clinician as it included multiple injuries that, if unduly treated, might impair him for life. Should he stay and try on his own? Or just stabilize him and leave him behind to get some quick help to medevac Brown? He was well aware that carrying the dead weight of Brown all along was not an option.

Grey weighted that Brown would probably take a downward turn soon as an infection should be in order, Brown's mental state wasn't helping either to expect the most of a quiet hang on and wait on his part, nor if he was to be on morphine, so to attend properly to his wounds and wait for the best seemed the most logical way to act and he quickly went to his go back to get his med kit and put his mind in medic mood.

When Brown was all settled up, Grey had remained vigilant, standing guard over his injured partner against any unexpected reactions, curled on his side to pass him some warmth while cushioning with his own body the eventual spasms from Brown to prevent him to injure himself further. He could rest some too, one of the parachutes tissue providing both some cover. The very moment he found Brown was awakening, although he wasn't yet coherent enough, he got up, feeling rather safe to go around for water and some food for the two of them.

"Bob, listen... This is my idea: what if we make a camp here for a few days, until your leg gets some better? There's plenty of thyme for the infection, we've got water, food, and we can make a pretty decent shelter... What's the rush?" Grabbing Bob under the armpits, Grey dragged him back carefully, pulling him away from the steep slope leading down to the river, and settling him in a more comfortable and protected position.

"The rush is called Kim."

"They won't tell her a thing until they're sure about our fate. Kim will only know we are still deployed. Mack and Top will keep on looking for us. There is even the chance they find us and lend us a hand. What do you say?"

"I need to go."

"To go where, man? You are good in here. I'll tell you what: get some rest, OK?"

"Is there a way we can get them to know we are OK?"

"They know."

"And that we know they are OK?"

"They are."

"How do you know?"

"It's all about faith..."

"You,... faith...?"

"Faith... You have faith in their ways,... their training... They have faith on yours... Faith that everybody is doing what it has to be done... and does it well..."

"Faith... Sure thing... But I have to be there, take me there. Is what you have to do."

"I'll tell you what: enough democracy for a day. I think I gave you too much of a dose and you are still in the seventh heaven. Try to rest a while more whilst the morphine is not wearing out; I will start setting things up around so we could get more comfortable. Remember not to move at all and no to stretch your leg or any other part of your body, right? You don't feel a thing now but you are stitched all around and you risk tearing those apart or worse. Bob, it's serious: no moving. Understood? No moving."

"Give me my go-bag."

"I just said: lie down and be still. Leave the bag for later."

"YOU GIVE ME MY GO-BAG, GREY!"

"Dude! Calm down. Even strung out, you're stubborn as an Afghan mule! Here is your bag, right by your side... Go to sleep now, Bob."

"I can take care of myself. If you don't help me there, I'll go on my own..."

"Yo! Hold it, now! I said we are staying. Later on, if things are different, we will deal with them then."

"I feel good, I can make it on my own and you are not in command. Go rest yourself, I'll go."

"Ride it, dude. Ride it. It's not you, it's the morphine talking. Hear me, Bobbo: try and fetch some sleep. You are seriously injured, you should be still now. No, no! Be still! Don't try to- (...)" And when Grey hunched forward to hold him down received from Bob's right leg a most unexpected kick into his ribcage that sent him spread eagled and stumbling right to verge of the slope where he lost foot and fell, rolling down fast through the bushes, amid a cascade of little rocks and dirt and down over the round pebbles bed by the river, where he lost consciousness.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 4

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

* * *

When Brown closed his eyes through a new burst of pain and he opened them again, he realized the moving form of Grey, slowly and stiffly heading to his position, panting heavily. Bob was, by then, in a bundle over the cold hard ground and cradling his broken fingers.

"Help. I need some help here... and I would appreciate some speed, man..." Grey launched a cold, hard stare directly down, which told him he was not in a mood for being scolded at.

When he was by Brown's side, his boots close to Bob's broken fingers, Grey snapped him a loud and harsh "Yo! Why did you do that for?"

Something that Bob learned pretty soon about his mates in the Unit was how difficult it was to tell when someone was joking or was utterly pissed off; the moods changing so rapidly that it was impossible to tell why or what was which made someone jumping to the throat of one another on some occasions.

Their eyes locked. Brown's body sagged further down the slight slope, thumping against Grey's legs, who bent to cup Bob's head before it hit against the bedrock next to him. From there, Grey held out his other arm to grab him under his left armpit and pulled Bob up, who grunted in pain upon rising a few inches from the ground.

With Grey's arms holding him tight, he accommodated to the small cover offered by the slope at their left and carefully slid to a half seated position. He still couldn't remember at all where they were or how did both arrive there, neither had he the slightest idea why Grey was staring at him with such an intensity, but definitively whatever had happened, for Grey was not playing matter.

"Tell me! Why did you do that for?" Grey spitted out again. Uncertainly, Brown drew himself up straight, cradling his injured hand and, for the first time of all the stripped memories coming randomly at him of these last hours, or days as far as he was concerned, he realized Grey's face was lined in pain, his body soaked with sweat, but still his eyes didn't give away what was boiling on his head. Grey closed his eyes and wheezed, trying desperately to draw new air into his lungs. Drops of sweat dripped from his wet curls to fall in rivulets onto his face.

"(...)"

Then, all of a sudden, Grey went on his hands and knees, busy now picking something from the floor. Bob started thinking if he had even noticed his two broken fingers when, suddenly, he was at this side again and grabbed his hand not very gently.

"Hey. Easy... Easy...l"

"What now? A little bit more of wimping and whining there, pretty boy?"

And with a sudden move he pulled Bob's swollen fingers towards him, a trail of hot red flash of pain crossing through Bob's mind top speed.

"You, son of a- !! What's the matter with you?"

A forceful strike of Grey's open hand against his shoulder pinned his back to the slope, sending a new set of stinging pain to his brain.

"Cool it! We are deployed!"

Brown's head sagged again as he fought for breath through his gritten teeth while Grey bound together his two broken fingers with the small sticks and a piece of his own shirt and then took care of the deep rashes on Bob's fingertips after cutting off the upper part of his gloves.

"Stay put till I get back." Brown didn't dare to add anything further and he left go adrift once more and everything looked blurry gray, fragments of the past few hours, in what seemed just right now, floating through his mind in pools of blood red and spotlight white, scattering like lost puzzle pieces under the influence of the last of the morphine his body was still processing.

_"You CIA, Brown? You can tell me, now. To get you going back to Kim and the kids, it's important I know. Tell me, are you CIA? Will they be looking for you too?"_

A new flash of pain seemed to bring some new awareness and he looked around him; it was when he saw Grey, just some 30 yards away, sitting with his back to a tree, knees pulled up to his chin with arms wrapped around them, head down, both their go-bags opened at his side. His shoulders were clearly shaking and Bob thought he heard him softly sobbing, which was something that shocked him.

He had seen Grey out of his usual self before, doing crazy stunts, edgy, angry, drunk,... and even scared and in deep pain, but he'd always stood his ground. To see him folded in a heap of broken nerves was unsettling to say the least. Bob had been himself too wrapped in his own tribulations to pay attention to Grey's, amidst the quickly mounting fever that was taking a tight grip on him. And so, he wasn't aware yet he had much more to worry, had he realized what Grey was holding on his hands, nested under the cover of his hunched back.

"Grey... Carlito... Hey, man..."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 5

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

* * *

Brown felt Grey's hand on his forehead and flinched away from it, his eyes flashed open and fixed on Grey's briefly just to close tightly again. The confusion and pain in Brown's deep green eyes made him look so young and vulnerable, that Grey couldn't help himself but address him with affection, all his bottled anger of the past long hours totally vanished.

"Bob? (...) Bob?"

"Hmmpff"

"Bob... Wake up..."

"Oh, No.. Buffff. No! No! No! No...!"

"Bob... Hey...Shhsss... It's me, Charles..."

"Hmmpff..."

"Open your eyes, Bob... Just open your eyes now... Look at me... Hey..."

"Ahhh..."

"I know... Open your eyes... Please... Come on..." Grey slapped him lightly on the face.

"Don't!!"

"Ow!! Oh!, Dude..!! Don't hit me! Just open your eyes... It's me, Grey..."

"(...)"

"Bob... (...) I know you are in great pain... You are tired... Your wounds opened again when you tried to go away. You've lost a lot of blood, you're weak now... but it's gonna be OK, I took care of it... No, no, no... Don't move, don't move."

"Oh... No more..."

"Hey... I'm here, by your side... With you... Do you feel my hand on your head? Be still... You'd feel better soon... It'll be over... It's a shame we have run out of morphine, Bob... I know it hurts much." Charles said sympathetically, well aware of those blurry first moments when one has to come to terms with pain, sensations and dizziness.

"Hmmppfff..."

"I know... I know... I know... Relax, relax... Don't move... or you'll hurt yourself... Yo... Listen to me... You're doing well... Sorry to wake you up. I just wanted you to drink some more, take a leak, maybe eat something... You have been sleeping for quite some time on a row... OK...? That's why now you feel a little bit confused... but it's OK... Are you with me? Bob...?"

"Yeah... Oooh, Carlito..." Grey watched as slowly his eyes opened, unfocussed and bleary, but still wedged open.

"Hey, welcome back. That's it. Try to steady your breath now, you'll feel better."

"Where... Where... are we...?" His voice was raw and rasping, trying to clear his throat.

"Deep in the woods but without little red hood to keep us warm. Hey, how are you holding up?"

"I don't even know... I hurt all over. (...) What happened? Tell me what happened?"

"Your parachute didn't open in time, remember? You hurt your leg badly, you've got little wounds all over; but, man, you should see the looks of the tree you fell in love with."

"How long?" Bob croaked.

"Since then? Almost three days. Feel like drinking some water?"

"Yes..."

"Don't move,... Don't move, yet... I'll bring it to your lips... Will raise your head myself... Don't strain yourself... You're doing good, I've patched you up again but it's all very tender... Let me do it for you... OK?"

"Sorry..."

"It's all right... Just let me help you... There..."

"Ah... (...) Oh, God...!"

"Drinking hurts?"

"No, man... Drinking feels like the best thing on the world right now..."

"It's thyme. Make an effort, drink some more... You should hydrate,... I boiled some thyme, it's good for the infection... I used some to clean your wounds too."

"Yeah..? (...)"

"It works wonders. Drink some more... Come on..."

"(...) Hmmppfff..."

"You all right?"

"Sure... (...) Will be... (...)"

"Let me see how are we doing. Relax now. Take some air, take some air."

"Oooh-Oooh, man!!"

"Take it easy, dude. Take it easy. I am right here. Take air, take air."

"Oh, God, that hurts!!"

"Easy, easy... Just try to relax. Just breathe through it, ok? You think you gonna make it? Now, just give me a few seconds, right? I'll make it quick, I promise."

"Couldn't you have done that before awakening me?"

"It wouldn't have had anything funny to tell at the bar with the guys... You feel this?"

"Ow!!"

"No, no, no! Don't look! Look up! Look at me! And this?"

"What do you think!!"

"That's good. It means a nice blood flow. Hey, you are doing good, everything is going fine."

After checking up on his open wounds, making sure they were healing properly, and changing the improvised dressings, Grey took great care in repositioning Bob's leg in a comfortable position over a heap of dry leaves he had already prepared.

"Easy, easy... AH! Easy..."

"So sorry, milady... You all right now?"

"Will... be... in a short... (...) while... Need a minute for the get together if you please."

"Sorry, Bob. I had to check it up."

"It's OK. ... Don't... bother... It's not ... your fault... Huh... I think I never felt so much pain in my whole life (...)" Grey sat infront of him, one of their helmets filled with water, and ran a cool wet cloth over Bob's face and down to his neck above the collar.

"Feeling a little bit better now? Your fever is gone. You are doing OK."

"Where have you been... while I was blasted black?"

"Here,... around..."

"Which day is today?"

"Sunday."

"Sunday..."

"Yeah... I know. It would be so much better if it were Tuesday and we had an excuse to skip that exciting "Military Support to Civil Authorities" seminar."

"You should leave on your own and look for help,.. You can't carry me out; it's a question of physics."

"I don't need to carry you; I can drag you all along in a stretcher if necessary. I'm not the problem here. Be patient, all in due time."

"It's uphill. (...) And we are too far away... Never get there in time." Brown close his eyes let his head sag sideways while Grey's straightened out instead, all the previous rage and fury pouring through his eyes again.

"Where is "there" and when is "in time", Brown?"

"What?" Brown was suddenly full alert, eyes wide open, adrenaline pumping.

"Your grenade didn't get messed with your parachute, did it? You made it all up. An artistic touch so you had an excuse to jump before the Team."

"What?"

"All about you is about perfectibility. You'll never make an error like that, a grenade unsecured in your hands just a few minutes before a HALO jump... You had second orders. Wheels within wheels. Actually it was me jumping after you and reaching for the grenade what made you loose direction to your own objective, is it not?"

"What are you-..." But Grey cut it short.

"And after I disentangled it from your parachute's loose ribbons and throw it away during our freefall, I never heard or saw it explode. You with CIA, Brown?"

Brown glared back defiantly, his own breath still deep and ragged. Grey watched those green eyes close again: Bob's pupils didn't contract, no more signs of confusion there, all cold and determined, no sign that he would start talking.

"You're playing in another league and I want mine back, Bob."

"Get over yourself. We are playing in the same league. We share the same objectives. Why don't you trust me?"

"A slave of two masters..? I cannot trust you."

"Trust comes from truth. What is true is that there was a purpose in preparing our HALO jump, it was an important piece of the whole scenario, and in that scenario, right now, we are not doing our bit by being both of us stuck in here. Truth, is that my leg will be doing better with proper care in a hospital."

"Wow..."

"I appreciate what you did for me, but now that things are changing for better, just go. Leave me here with my go-bag and all the necessary to wait for the extraction."

"Your go-bag..."

"It's the right thing to do. Should I remind you of your own plead in Beirut? I do not understand why you do not act now according to your own words."

Grey's hand gently pressed at his own ribs, just where he had the chest tube bulgy scar, an ever present reminder of Hector's relentless fight for his life and their collective sacrifice, and the pain of his recent fall caused him another bout of coughing, more pain and a strong nausea.

"(...) Man... Brown... This is low. All of this is low."

The deep, full of hurt, passing shade on Grey's eyes was of such an intensity that Brown opted for a shortstop defensive position but still he muttered under his breath, "I'm an American fighter, first and only rule. I do what I have to do, no matter what. But, you...?", before closing his eyes again.

He jerked as he felt a cool caress on his face. Bob Brown was surprised to find Grey hunched over him, his deep dark brown eyes bright with the reflection of the knife's blade he had pressed against Brown's cheek, its coolness just equaled by Grey's blood freezing tone.

"You've no right to doubt me. You've no right."

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 6

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

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"Hey... Take it away... I can do my own shaving."

Grey sheathed the knife back swiftly, his face sculpted in hard lined muscles tightly defining his hardly contained rage on Brown. It was when an ominous cracking sound was clearly heard and, timely, Grey spitted out a big piece of one of his molars in his hand. Both men were enthralled by that physical proof on how real it were the tension between the two and both relaxed their stares to a softer look that mutated to a sympathetic grin on the part of Brown, and there was no need for further words to be crossed between them to defuse their previous clash.

"It could have been worse. You could have broken one fingernail and spoiled your manicure." Grey's eyes rolled up and he just let off all his steam with a long wheezing sound. "Want me to have a look at it? (...) Come on."

"Hate dentists."

"So, we have something in common. Let me help. Open up. More... I can't see. Swallow down the blood and open it wide again. (...) Yeah. You've got another two big splinters broken, but you've got enough of the piece saved to get it rebuilt,... I think... Hold it. There... I've got one out. (...) And here is the other. You OK?"

"It's OK."

"Listen. What if we drink both some of that potion of yours and we settle things up, right now. We need to get out of this hole asap. We better put this whole thing out of our minds and we focus on the work at hand. I'll tell you everything I know and you tell me what's bothering you so much and that I cannot remember."

"It seems in order."

"I'll start: yes, you are right. Me messing with the grenade was part of the exercise. Ryan himself ordered me to. Expect the unexpected."

"It was a cruel role to play, to make the team believe you were blown away and having to carry on after what happened to us in Beirut."

"That was the point. It had to be something that would unsettle everybody and turn everything upside down. What Ryan didn't count on was your instant reaction to save my hide, instead of going ahead with the mission. But it was an exercise; I don't think he'll take it against you."

"It was instinctive. I would have done the same had it been for real. I don't care what he thinks."

"And now, I can only make sure you understand I didn't want any of it. Those were my orders for the exercise. Ask Ryan. And, yes, I've lied to you, betrayed you and put you to a terrible risk as a consequence of those orders."

"But you're an American fighter and you do what you have to do no matter what."

"You resent me because you didn't have any intell about my orders before boarding the plane? Just as you would have done,... I hope."

Grey responded with a mild gaze in silence and let Brown continue.

"We don't need to be friends, but trust is paramount in what we do. How can I get your trust back?"

"I have no Jonas's rice tricks for you to try."

"Then, make your mind once and for all and just trust me, face value. Jonas does, why don't you?"

Grey's stare this time was hard and direct, and still he didn't word his accord.

"Go! Come on! What do you want to know? I look into your eyes and I know there is more to it.

"Why have not you told me yet you have a GPS in your go-bag. I found it. It works."

"You've got it wrong!"

"Now, is it there or isn't it there?

"Yeah, but..."

"So, why was it there?"

"The GPS was to get back and try and stalk the team from behind the lines."

"Part of the exercise..."

"Part of the exercise. Look. I've been spaced out for more than three days, as per what you told me. Since you injected me I only remember waking up alone, with blood in my hands; I remember I broke two fingers trying to get up and then I saw you coming. I guess you put me to sleep again because I don't remember anything else except for this excruciating pain and your face close to mine every here and there. That's all. These last two hours are the only ones I can recall clearly. I didn't have any real opportunity to explain you anything of this before. But I see you take it against me."

"Someone should tell Ryan that when you play God one way or another, the world is never the same. You have been above... never get down properly. (...) Eat more blueberries. Sugar and water. I'll go and get some protein."

"Listen, listen... We do specialize in the unlikely, it's only logical we do train in the unlikely too... There is no conspiracy, there is no CIA involved... (...) Hey, talk to me. What else there is that is burning your insides? Get it out."

"You want an example? We all keep a field dressing in the map pocket of our pants. Same place everyone. Thus, we all know were to look for it, it's easier to grab it if someone takes a hit and starts bleeding. After all, it's the main pocket, where we carry all the sensible things to destroy or make disappear in case a man is down. We all do. All, but you. It took me some time to find your field dressing when I needed it."

"It was all because you lost some time looking for a-" Grey cut him short with an imposing low tone.

"And that's my point, Bob: in what we do, being a team that can feel and act like one singular individual when needed is a must. You make of our Team, a team plus one individual. (...) Funny, you still don't get it."

Brown tried to draw Grey out of his self imposed silence that followed several times, but Grey stayed tight-lipped and shortly he pulled on his gloves and went deep into the forest for food.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 7

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

* * *

Grey felt he had to leave their camp just in time not to shame himself more than he felt already, for he realized what he just did he would never have done to a stranger in need, and he did it to one of his brothers in arms totally depending on him as Bob Brown was.

Grey thought he knew himself quite well, which didn't mean in the slightest he could control his impulses at all times. He was more tired and in pain than he would admit and he was well aware, that he was uncontrollably growing out of his mind, off his center.

He was someone to step out of the line every now and then, he was not afraid to go one way or the other depending on the situation at hand, but he resented deeply his lack of control a while before. And now was one of those occasions where he missed deeply the friendly restrain that Jonas or Mack would impose on him every now and then, because he was well aware that he had not cared to understand Brown; whether Brown was trying to fool him or not didn't matter anymore, the problem was his now, the problem was himself.

His raven black curly hair streamed out of his face as he walked against the wind. And with his head up, his chin jutting, and with his eyes burning in his anger addressed against himself now, had gone south in search of some substantial food and a change on his mood. "_Get a bit of air in your lungs, that's what you need_".

The further he went through the thick forest of trees, the more he began to doubt his own judgment to put some space and time between the two as it was, actually, taking him away from where he needed to be in their situation, that was, with Brown. Just as he was thinking of turning back, cursing to himself about how stupid he'd been for wasting so much time, he was suddenly out of the thickest of trees and standing face to face with a downward slope of rock that lead to a glittering pool of water.

Almost without thinking, Grey strolled down to the small natural lake and undressed at the edge of the waves and then plunged in the water, enjoying the freezing coldness that engulfed him.

He stayed in the water for nearly half an hour, paddling back and forth across the lake energetically until he felt some soreness building up in his muscles. At last, comfortably tired, he floated on his back and looked up in the sky. "_Steel blue... like deep water... cold water_." He grinned wryly at some old memories of his only real vacation to perfection his freediving.

Grey leaned back on the short grass and admired the scenery, the lake. "_Born sea-mammal_", he thought. _"I must see the ocean again soon; spend more time studying aquatic life..." _

Freediving was simple. A freediver relies on a single breath of air to explore the undersea world. Moving gracefully without wasting energy, a freediver can spend minutes underwater and experience the ocean as any other marine mammal does, the key to freediving being how to relax underwater, enjoying the inner exploration of sensations and personal limits. Charles Grey loved freediving because it made him feel part of a different world where he was new born again, independent and free... nothing to grieve about, not a care in the world.

He shook himself dry, toweled off with his shirt, pulled on his clothes and he practically ran up the slope to escape from the call to stay some more on that micro paradise.

In that hour before dusk, the forest was quiet and the mountain, reared close above the river, grew from a blue blur. The land seemed endlessly forested on both banks. As he headed back along the riverbed to their improvised camp, the sky darkened, a change of weather. No sooner had he rejoined Brown again than he sensed the gloomy atmosphere. Without doubt, Brown's morale was dented by the experience of the last three hours in deep pain and on his own. He approached him.

"How are you holding up, Bob?"

"I want to get out of here."

"In time. We will sort it out a little bit later, when we have cooked and eaten what I brought. We will think better with a full belly. You'll start feeling better. I've found some valeriana plants around. I'll make an infusion to ease the pain and to help you relax some too."

"I hate being like this."

"I know, but, you are gonna pull through with your two legs and two arms almost intact. You should be glad. You are doing well. I've seen quite a few trauma injuries during my time with the medics, and you are doing fine. You just need to be patient a couple more days for things to change for much better. You'll see. It might even be what it takes the team to come and extract us through the river..."

"And if nobody comes?"

"We will make it down the river ourselves till we arrive to a place where the GPS picks up any satellite and can serve us as a beacon or guide us out. I've had an idea that will allow us to travel quite fast out of here. We just need to see your stitches are gonna hold up well. So, try and focus on being a good patient and making a quick recovery."

Charles rolled up his sleeves to start skinning the rabbit that would be their next meal. It was then when Bob fixed his eyes on the visible blue and black finger marks which he himself had left on Grey's arms that first day. He was so low right now. He hated being helpless. The sight of those bruises and the vivid thought on how the panic had taken hold of him in those first moments made much more realistic his present situation when he couldn't even move without help.

And, suddenly, he realized that not only his wounds had been treated and dressed, but he must have been cleaned up by Grey too, that his most vital needs had been taken care of by him during all those days, even if he didn't remember it, and most important for someone so proud as himself: not for a moment had Grey make a mockery of the pain he had been enduring or of other more personal subjects.

Brown strived to be seen as an open and sympathetic person, but in the eyes of his mates, he was ambivalent, always striving to be the best, always competing. He was used to harbor suspicions and enviousness everywhere he went. For their opinions, he cared not. But now, even Grey doubted him, doubted of his much worked career, which meant such a great sacrifice both for Kim and himself, product of their strict life and discipline and commitment to each other; where all they've got had been hardly fought for...

And he realized how much it mattered to him that Grey believed in his good faith and to get back his trust.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 8

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

* * *

_The Cave, present time_

"They found them with the thermal detector we assembled yesterday in the hired helo, Colonel. We've got their position. As for their thermal imprint, both are alive but one of them was in horizontal and hardly moving while they flew around, so we take it that at least one of them is injured."

"Arrange that they get some basic supplies and a radio. Use the small sightseeing chopper. We need to go for a discreet extraction."

"Sir, we do have a rescue helo with a stretcher ready too."

"No, too flashy. We do not want the Canadians poking their nose around just right now. We make sure first what's going on. I've got enough trouble with the Washington brass already. If they can take them away with the small one today, fine. If not, we'll have to reassess our scenario for tomorrow. They are alive and kicking, they've been so for 5 days. They are OK."

"Yes, sir."

_Somewhere near Adhapapuskow__, Canada_

When Grey heard the second helo approaching he had already Bob securely harnessed with the elements of their own parachutes, ready for a quick extraction as the weather was increasingly gloomy. The double harness was ready to be hooked in a way that Brown could be winched out quickly in a more or less stable way but protecting his left leg as much as possible with the rest of his body. Whether the chopper would be one with a stretcher or not didn't matter as making the stretcher maneuvering should prove far too risky for the pilot with that thick forest around. Nonetheless, he was surprised when he saw the small dot flying over the river in their direction, it was clear that there would be hardly space for Brown himself not to say for a rescue stretcher. He moved briskly to Bob's side."Carlito! What are you doing? Leave me!"

"I am marking you with a big M in your forehead."

"What!!! Why?"

"Standard medical procedure, bro. They need to know you are on morphine when they treat you. It's very important. So don't you wipe it out."

"I'm not in morphine for two days. We don't have any morphine."

"We do. I kept some just in case."

"You did?! You let me suffer like a dog when you had some?!!! You son of a-"

"Just like Hemingway said: 'In modern war... you will die or suffer like a dog for no good reason.'

"Did I hear you quoting Hemingway? I must be already out of my mind."

"Stop the whining. Getting extracted like this might be too painful even for you and they don't need you creating any trouble at mid air while they jump you in. Not enough stability in that little mosquito, you could finish bumping against your old flame tree. This is no Black Hawk, what they sent, I tell you. We cannot risk it. Be glad I have it.

"(..)"

"Do you feel the harness too loose?"

"It has been a great idea using our parachute's harnesses combined to get up to ease the pressure on my leg. Let me tighten it here."

"Don't overdue it. You need to keep a good blood flow. It might be a couple of hours or more till you make it to a hospital, you'll be KO all the way there and I won't be around either to keep an eye on you."

"Cake walk. Don't worry."

"Ok, ok, ok... It's now or never. Ready? I'll give you your shot right away. Tilt a bit. Relax, relax."

"Ow! That stings!"

"Sure! No pain no gain! Don't let yourself fall asleep until you are safely seated up there and the belt secured, just in case."

"Will do, mama."

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Man, this is... " Bob grunted.

'You dizzy?"

"Yeah... Oh, man...", he panted heavily.

"Ride it. Ride it... You are OK, it's just a mild reaction. Hey! You hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... I hear you... I'm good... I'm good... Let's do it."

"Bob, I hate to ask, but..."

"You ... don't need to ask... just tell me what..."

"When they winch you up, would you mind just holding on and not throwing up top down on me? It will be a plus if you hold on long enough to give the good news to the pilot for bringing in such a tin can to our rescue."

"You are crazy, man..."

"Good luck, Bobby. I'll see you home in a couple of days."

"I might buy you a beer then."

"Don't move now. I'll catch their hook and will secure you myself. Be careful with the downdraft when they get you up. Here comes the hook. With a bag of surprises... Thanks!"

The helo approached, dropped the cable more, Grey caught it dangerously staggering close to the rock face and unclipped the bag and clipped Brown onto it. Then he put his hand on Bob's shoulder and gave him a gentle shake before giving the OK sign raising his thumb. The helo lifted up while Bob, fighting the dizziness that threatened to tip over him on his way up, cried over the deafening sound to him.

"BETTY BLUE!!! I LEFT... SOMETHING FOR YOU... LOOK ON YOUR...(...)"

"WHAT???"

"YOUR..."

"WHAT!!!!"

When Bob was already well secured inside, the chopper hovered one last moment and flew away with his cargo, leaving Grey behind with a huge smile on his face, ready to pay a last visit to his own private micro paradise before being extracted himself.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 9

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

_

* * *

_

_The Cave, Col. Ryan's office. Present time._

"Sergeant Grey, this handwritten note has been found in your map pocket: _Robert Davis Brown, 2nd Cavalry, Military Intelligence, Toujours Prêt (Always Ready). Fort Polte in Louisiana (2000), two tours in Iraq in the Operation Iraqi Freedom (2002), Fort Lewis in Washington (2004), _along with some other precise information on Brown's career in the military. What's this?"

"I don't know, sir."

"You don't know? It was in the map pocket of your pants and you don't know? WERE YOU CARRYING THIS KIND OF INTEL IN YOUR MISSION? FROM ONE OF YOUR MATES!!!"

"No, sir!"

"Well you ain't got a say in the matter, do you?" Ryan responded, voice heavy with the arrogant firmness of someone who knows no one, nothing, could stop him.

"No, sir."

"You are suspended until further notice. You'll stay within quarters and you'll report directly to me for duty every morning at 5 am. Bring me your phone, your personal gear and your identity card. NOW! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!!"

_General __Hospital Ward. Present time._

The light woke Bob Brown. He felt warm and relaxed, and for a moment he couldn't really remember where he was. But there was an annoying sound in the background, some kind of beeping. Bob just wanted it to shut off so that he could go back to sleep, but he couldn't reach it. Slowly he opened his eyes to see Kim standing over him.

"Hey... Kim... I thought we were home..."

"You are home, in the base, but you will be still a couple of days in the hospital. How are you feeling now?"

"I feel good... I don't remember much... How long..?"

" You've been here for three days. You have been in and out because of the morphine they give you, that's why you don't remember. But you are doing OK. You are healing very well. There would be no sequels."

"How are our three babies?"

"They are just fine. Waiting to see their dad home soon."

"And my big girl? You look tired Kim..."

"I am glad to have you here and well."

"I am glad to have you so close and well,... always my rock, my heart." Bob took her hand and kissed it, lost into her eyes. Kim kissed him back in the lips and murmured a soft "I love you too".

"No more than I love... you..." Bob flinched at the sharp needling he felt on his left side.

"Bob... Are you in pain?"

"Some... Just a bit." Bob attempted a smile which turned to a grimace as the powerful pain meds and anesthetic caught violently up with him and with a groan he turned onto his side and was sick into a container Kim quickly held. Wearily he flopped back onto the bed and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.

"I am sorry... That was not very romantic on my part."

'Lay still and I'll go get the doctor"

"No, no, no. Don't call anybody. Not yet."

"Lie back. They told me it was a normal reaction and it's not the first time these days, but if you are in pain they should give you something."

"No, no, no. I don't want more meds in a while. I need my head clear now. Kim, has Carlito.. Charlie visited?"

"Charles? Why?"

"We were together but we split."

"Charles is not a favorite these days. I think the Colonel arrested him in the quarters. The word around is that your accident was his fault."

"Who says that?"

"Thrisha told Tiffy who told me, but then Annette told me too. It's what is told among the staff. Was it? Are you like this because of him?"

"You know I can't comment on our job in the office. But I want to see him. Please tell him to come."

"I don't know if he will be allowed too, Bob. He left a message in Molly's phone mailbox just this morning. It seems someone got in touch with HQ yesterday to complain for he had not been paying the rent and said he was going to be evicted. He asked Molly whether she could help him with that because he couldn't leave the premises. Double trouble. Ryan is not gonna like that either."

"Jonas, Mack?"

"Deployed. They came and they went. Molly is taking care of visiting Charles's landlady today to try and arrange for an extension."

"Call Annie. I need to see Charlie. I'm sure he is in contact with her. It's important." Kim's big, startled eyes, melted in a sad look.

"Bob... Annie left."

"What!?"

"Annie left for Chicago this weekend and she is not gonna get back. She got scared."

"Scared of what?"

"I kind of understand her... She feared that Charles could be sharing the same destiny of Hector and she didn't..." Kim's voice broke slightly. "...she didn't want to know for real. She left just wishing to live in the belief that they had simply broke off as thousands of other couples do every day."

Bob's face was sweaty and grayish by the time Kim finished and a new wave of nausea overtook him again.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 10

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

It was most unfortunate that at his very arrival, before going to his apartment or calling nobody, he went to surprise Annie at the Capri Isle, something he had regretted deeply for any of his team mates could have prevented him beforehand and he wouldn't have risked making a fool of himself in front of so many of the unit's staff personnel. As soon as he approached Louis, the Capri's manager, to ask about Annie he was told point blank that Annie left for Chicago, moving home, no turning back as she was too upset yet about Hector' loss to go ahead with Charles. That was what Louis said, and knowing how the threadmills of gossip worked at the Capri with so much TOC staff around, Charlie understood immediately she had known he was MIA and had been afraid the history will be repeating itself with losing him too after losing Hector.

Nonetheless, he was highly experienced in making disappear in a cloud of smoke anything personal and focus on the mission in hand when needed, and he tried his best to hide his immediate gut reaction to anyone around. He stood stiff just for some seconds after Louis gave him the bad news and then relaxed his shoulders, took an apparently hassle-free stance, and sat there, on the table close to the phone, with a view over the rear door, drinking beer, his small notebook and a pen over the table, same place same position same neutral stare for many hours. But Annie didn't come back or called. Nobody else did approach him either.

During that night in the Capri Isle time spread for the count of a whole month. Time enough to experiment what was being left alone again, without Annie, the only person he thought on as his only family on earth since they engaged. He worked hard on convincing himself that it was best for Annie, that he should be happy for her for she had found the courage to move forward with her life, not just being part of his... one more of the women's of the Unit. For he loved Annie. He loved Annie freely. He loved her unconditionally. The only women that made him find new feelings inside him he didn't know he had and made them real; maddening as they were as all he wanted since then was to loose him in her fresh embrace, bury his face in her hair and her neck. No, he wouldn't do anything to look for her or try and make her come back to numb and wither away in those closed quarters while waiting for his uncertain return.

That was 7 days before. 7 days that he passed secluded in the Unit's quarters, doing endless and deathly boring physical tasks from well before dawn to dusk, a quick meal at the reg canteen and then the three "s" routine and no more. And all because of some trick Ryan was playing on him or maybe because Ryan, who knew absolutely everything of what happened related to the people under his command, wanted to keep him busy enough. Who could tell. But he certainly put to good use those 7 days focusing on the job in hand, eating and sleeping just enough, and folding reflexively inwards to try to guard his core.

When finally he was released by Ryan and could get back to his normal life, fuzzy logic told that he had sufficient time to cool down and get detached enough from his hard pressed feelings, but it was just then when all his inward hell broke loose. He felt totally overwhelmed the very same moment he climbed onto the driver's seat of his Wrangler and, as a recently acquired automatism during the last months, he started the engine thinking where he would take Annie for dinner. Then, it came the realization that Annie was not there for him anymore. He whitened, all his will and containment down the drain, and he barely managed to drive off the base to the Capri Isle, clutching to his only straw for he needed badly this last little hope of Annie coming back for him.

Bob had passed the last days lost in the company of Kim and the kids, getting hugely better. He had found impossible to contact Ryan, until Ryan asked himself to meet him at the unit. The debrief was short and easier than he expected but Ryan had barely given him the opportunity to straighten up things for Grey the way he wanted to; he made clear he knew the note's was in Brown's handwriting and he didn't want to know more, neither did he allow him to get into details about Grey saving his life and his leg. He was dismissed and due to duty the next morning; and that was all.

Bob stopped in the reg small room where they usually shared a beer at the end of the day to try and meet Grey but to no avail. Nobody there could give him any directions about his whereabouts. Luckily, contrary to what Kim had announced him in the hospital, he couldn't detect any hard feelings against Grey; most assuredly there had been some gossip talking among the staff, but among the people that might have mattered, it was just like any other day.

While having his beer on his own, Mack and Jonas still on deployment, it came to him how it was with Carlito the following weeks after that assessment mission in Israel, when Nicky died. Everyday after the training he, who didn't drink much usually, would sip a glass after another of whisky on ice, till he would turn on a taciturn mood, a state of torpor and stupidity, all of it without doing any fuss, slowly sinking deep inside himself almost in complete silence, and then he would get up and find a quiet small corner where he would accommodate in a bundle and sleep all the way through until he was sober enough again to get back to his apartment by his own means.

One of those days he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw him encase himself in an impossible space between a wall and a piece of furniture of the dorm, knees almost on forehead, like enjoying the tightly embrace of those two inanimate objects. Bob was somehow shocked when he recognised in that peculiar behaviour a mirror image of himself some 15 years ago, trying and finding there the artificial feeling of reassurance and protection than real life was not granting him.

All in all lasted a couple of weeks until Jonas talked him out of it, not even Hector had got through his shell during that time. Grey could be using the same routine now to find some comforting numbness again. He didn't feel responsible for the uncontrolled chain of events that Grey unleashed for his untimely freefalling after him, his getting hurt included, but he was truly sorry for him loosing Annie and was resolute to stand by him this time.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title**: Home Run - Chapter 11

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

* * *

Finally he found Grey where he should have looked for him the first time. The freezing air tickled against his face while Bob approached the Capri Isle's back alley and saw the distinctive figure of Carlito, seating against the wall, between the stairs and a wooden crate, hunched back, knees up, head nested between the extended arms, limping hands at the end. Bob arrived there with a purpose but now, immersed in the surrounding shadows, the last thing he wanted to do was to enter into that crude circle of light and be a part of that picture, among all that exposed thrash scattered around.

"Welcome back, Bob. It seems you made it through quite neatly, after all. I didn't hear you limping through the alley." Grey's words were definitely blurred, so he really had been on some heavy drinking.

"I didn't make it limping out of the hospital either. My leg is just fine. I'll report back tomorrow. I owe you."

"Nobody owes anything to anyone in the Unit. It's our business. That's our way. You should know by now. What do you want, Brown?"

"You got your stay of execution for a thing. I did the debriefing with Ryan today. I told him to I wrote that paper and put it in your map pocket. What else can I do for you?"

"Oh, it was you... It seems you did enough then. I've been cleaning the damned pool of jeeps all week long. I'll never want to see you offering me a hand!"

"In that case, let me just give you a leg up and a lift home."

"Don't bother. Thanks." _I don't even have one now. Got all my things packed who knows where_, he thought bitterly to himself.

"Let's cut this out any other way then, shall we. I don't feel good about what happened. It seems not fair but I don't know what to do, what is best. If I had not dragged on your return, maybe... I mean... (...) Help me out of it! Let's- (...)"

"Hindsight …"

"What?"

"Hindsight. Bob, the 'what if' game never works….stop and just leave me alone. This is my free time; I want to be on my own now. I don't want to talk. I don't want to think. I don't want to feel. I'll see you when I see you."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Oh! It will be me leaving instead. No trouble. Will look for another crapy alley to sit and relax. There's plenty around. I'm much too drunk to drive out off here or to enjoy fighting with you."

"Alcohol and this freezing cold are not a good mix. Sleeping in your open jeep is no option either. Won't you just trust me for once and come with me?"

"Where? To your perfect home? Where your perfect Kim could patronize me with her sweet disapproving eyes?"

"I'll take you to the reg dorm in your jeep then; that is, if you don't really feel like sleeping in our couch tonight or every night."

"Not like this. Out of respect for the kids and Kim." The hoarseness in his voice was better, and his tone softer, but he still didn't sound like himself, and he was slightly slurring his words. "Sorry about what I said before on Kim, I-"

"No place for "sorry" in the Unit either, you should know better. Let's go." Bob said with a nod and a wink.

"Yeah."

Grey kept seated there, staring at Brown, seeking out his eyes and locking on to them, and Brown returned his gaze levelly.

"Even among the lowest scum of the earth you'll find powerful words defending high moral grounds, Bob. You asked back there what I believe in."

"I've heard you say more than once: hate the game, don't hate the player."

"You know, this might be the only game I know, but it's going to get me killed one of these days, or one of my mates... while the Washington's brass doesn't mind, they are just too busy trying to work out what's being aimed at us and having a firm grip to their seats, nothing else. "

"But you hate me. So..."

"And you are part of that game. You were part of that game, not just a player when you were called to testify to CIA's HQ, and in your mission to Russia with Jonas too. And when all the rest of us were disbanded, you kept being an important part of that game. You never told us upfront, not even to Jonas, never said what was going on; you flied solo until you were forced to tell because it was convenient for you: you were playing for a home run and you needed zero errors by the defensive team on play. A team plus one. That's what pisses me off. It pisses me off..."

"Good. Finally you talk your mind."

"See, Bobby? You don't get it. Stop looking at your bellybutton all the time! You are tall and good-looking. You've got an education. You are up in the scale, righting wrongs, changing the world. But you, me, we are disposable news; Washington or the news crews take whatever you might have done and transform it in a disposable product of a few lines, a few images, that are consumed and forgotten in minutes, nobody cares to give it a second thought."

"(...)"

"I' am not talking about you. I'm talking about the team. The brotherhood of it meaning that even when you're up to your neck in shit, you're surrounded by mates who care to keep you afloat. That's something for real, something you can rely on. Once in, never out. You are in, you are good. But, yes, sometimes I follow that primal instinct that tells me I have to watch my back……any way I can... and I do it. I don't hate you. Back then I felt I should know for real what you stand for."

"Grey, I- I... Last week it took me some to get my wits back but eventually I did and I realized how you took over those days on my behalf, overlooking your own needs; the way you cared and provided for me; that you had been open, straight in your approach. And I came to appreciate it and saw the real value of it... and I wanted you to feel the same way towards me."

"So then was that piece of paper... At least you cared to leave a goodbye note."

"It was stupid on my part, but I felt the urge to show you I'm no fake. I might have taken the wrong decisions in the past, but I'm no fake, Carlito. And I won't excuse myself for what I did in the past. It seemed the right thing to do for my family. That's why I am here too and I dare to tell you now you are not doing the right thing for yourself. You don't look good."

"It's a lot on my mind now, Bob, and I'm handling it the best I can."

"Have you got any to help you? Family?"

"Not anymore, apparently."

"I am here, bro."

"Yeah, here you are, insisting in offering a hand."

"So, what do we do now? You just tell me how do we got out of this the two of us and let's move forward."

"Nicely put... How we got out of it... What about yin and yang,... the interdependence of opposites, mutually rooted ... mutually transforming each other... mutually wax and wane..." And Grey extended both his arms up towards Brown who took a firm grip on his wrists to help him up.

"I like it. You should get drunk more often. It's giving peace a chance then."

"I'm always for peace, bro."

END OF THE STORY


End file.
